


Needful Things

by LamiaCalls



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Neville Longbottom, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, Light Alpha/Omega, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaCalls/pseuds/LamiaCalls
Summary: There is no ground rule Neville is more repeatedly pleased by than the one that said Draco can fuck him while he slept.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 302
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	Needful Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HogwartsToAlexandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/gifts).



One thing that Neville has learnt over the years is that when the heat hits, it hits hard. It’s why they’d set so many ground rules early in their relationship.

It’s why he gets the pleasure to waking up to the sensation Draco sliding down his dick, slick and groaning on top of him. There is no ground rule he is more repeatedly pleased by than the one that said Draco can fuck him while he slept.

“Fuck,” Neville says. He’s still half-cloaked in sleep, but it’s hard to stay that way as he feels Draco’s tight hole constrict around him, his wetness.

He opens his eyes, and Draco looks positively debauched. Mouth slightly open, eyes closed, panting as he fucks himself on Neville’s dick. As usual, going too fast and too rough and wincing at the pain but unable to help himself. It’s hard for Neville to hold himself together when he sees him like this, but he manages to stop himself from coming.

He reaches up, and palms Draco’s face, one thumb finding its way into his mouth.

Draco opens his eyes, grins at him, eyes glazed with lust and heat and presumably some morning sleepiness. Neville trails his hands down his gorgeous shoulders, his firm chest. Draco’s eyes burn into him now, with an intensity that, even after all this time, he wants to shy away from.

“Fuck,” Neville says again. The intensity only adds to the pleasure, of the exquisite feeling of being inside Draco. He rocks his hips up, languishes in Draco’s whine as he does so. “Look at you,” he says, breath shallow. “So fucking perfect, so fucking gorgeous.”

Draco grins, rewards Neville by slamming down even harder, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him. He grabs at Draco’s hip, holds him steady.

“I don’t want to come yet,” he says, his voice strained. “Slow down, Draco.”

Draco nods, but he can see the man can barely hear him, can feel his hips vibrating in their effort not to move for even a seconds. He grinds against Neville and Neville is powerless under him.

“Fuck,” Neville says once more, uselessly. He releases his grip, giving up as he watches his boyfriend pull himself up the length of his cock and rock back down.

A second later and he grabs hold of Draco’s hips again, fucking up into him, frenzied, frantic, as he comes. He groans and throws his head back. His breath is shallow, fast. He wanted to last longer than that, always does when he’s woken by Draco fucking him, and never quite manages it.

When he’s recovered, he uses his grip on his hips to topple Draco over onto his back. Draco chuckles. He’s used to this by now.

Neville kisses him deeply, tongue snaking in and out. He breaks off, kissing down Draco’s jaw and onto his neck, then across his pointy collarbones. Slowly he works his way down, to Draco’s erect cock.

Draco bucks his hips up towards him, but Neville shakes his head.

“Patience,” he says.

Draco never has had any. He whines, fidgets beneath him, as Neville takes the time to kiss along his hip bones, before, finally, he licks up the length of Draco’s dick. Draco groans gratefully.

It doesn’t take him long to come; it never does. Neville swallows it down, enjoying the taste of him. He’s never grown tired of it.

He crawls back up to lie beside Draco.

“Better?” Neville says softly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Much,” Draco says, stretching out, back arching in that way that, even though he’s only just come, makes Neville’s dick harden just a bit.

His eyes are half-slitted now, and Neville peeks over him to the clock. It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.

“How long have you been up?” Neville asks, kissing him again.

“Not long,” Draco says. “Few hours.”

Neville wants to tell him off, but doesn’t. He knows no amount of conviction on Neville’s part will ever convince Draco to get him up whenever the heat first hits. But it pains Neville to think of Draco, needful and aching, for hours, just so Neville can get a lie-in.

“I’ll make you tea,” Neville says. Another kiss before he pulls himself out of bed, regretfully away from Draco’s warmth. He pulls on a pair of boxers, and pads out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he puts the kettle on.

Before it’s had a chance to boil, Draco appears in the doorway. He looks a little less dishevelled, but his hair is still a mess. Neville likes him best this way — the Draco that only he gets to see.

“I’ll make it,” Draco says.

Of course. Neville makes rubbish tea. And while practice makes perfect, Draco told him firmly that he wasn’t going to practice on him.

He watches Draco get to work with the mugs, plonking in tea bags, hot water and milk — with just a half spoon of sugar for Neville.

When the kettle’s down, Neville comes up behind Draco, enclosing his arms around him and kissing at that warm spot on the back of his neck.

“Mmm,” Draco says, and leans back into him. “You’re distracting me.”

“Oh no, I’d hate to do that,” Neville says.

He nibbles at Draco’s earlobe, the way he knows he likes it. Draco growls, his arse grinding into Neville’s cock, which is already stiffening. It never takes much for him when Draco’s in heat. Neville presses back.

He moves one arm down him, down to Draco’s dick, which is hard as nails already. He palms it firmly, enjoying the sound of Draco’s breath hitching.

“You like that?” Neville says. His voice has gone thick. He can smell Draco’s heat, and it’s having its usual affect on him.

Draco nods. Neville strokes the length of him, feeling Draco tense against him. Draco takes Neville’s remaining hand, and reaches back, so that it’s at his hole. He’s wet, though whether with his own juices or Neville’s from earlier, Neville isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter. Neville growls into his ear.

“Fuck me,” Draco says. His voice is strained but demanding, and he presses against Neville’s hand.

Neville doesn’t need much convincing. He pulls his cock out, parts Draco’s cheeks. They get into their usual positions, Draco bent forward, elbows on the counter, Neville behind him.

He presses the head of his cock against him, and watches as it slides inside. They both shudder, always do at first entry. Neville snakes one arm around Draco’s hips to brace him, and then begins to fuck him gently.

He tries to go slow, but it’s not long before he’s slamming into him, listening to Draco groan and moan in pleasure. He comes quickly, and finishes Draco off with his hand.

They stand, still in their previous positions, for almost a full minute, both panting into the silence of their kitchen.

Neville straightens out first, pulling out with a sigh. He uses the kitchen roll to clean them both up, and kisses the back of Draco’s neck again.

They settle with their mugs on the sofa, limbs tangled together. Draco has that freshly-fucked smirk that Neville can never resist kissing off of him.

“What time is Hermione expecting us?” Draco asks, looking up at the clock.

Neville starts.

“Is that today?” Neville says. “Merlin, we’re meant to be there in an hour!”

Neville slams his mug down on the table, goes to get up, but Draco grabs his arm before he can rise.

“Or,” Draco says calmly, that devilish glint in his eye, “we could cancel.”

“Oh yeah?” Neville says. His brain says they should go, that it’s too last minute to cancel, but his other organs are not quite so interested in that. “What would we do instead?”

“Well, I was thinking, we could fuck a few dozen more times,” Draco says dreamily, and gives Neville’s soft cock a quick stroke, eliciting a surprised inhalation.

“That’s a tempting offer, but—” Neville says.

“Oh, and I could fuck you a dozen times, too.”

Neville growls. He tries to think through the fog this image has created in his brain, but his cock is incapable of letting him think in this moment.

“Fine,” Neville says at last. He’s always putty in Draco’s hands. “But you have to write the owl this time.”

“A price I’m willing to pay,” Draco says.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Neville replies, when Draco doesn’t move. “Hurry up, and then meet me in the bedroom.”

“Who needs patience now?” Draco says as Neville gets up.

Neville leans over the back of the sofa and kisses Draco on the top of the head.

“Shut up and write that letter,” Neville says, and skirts off to the bedroom.

He’s pleased when Draco joins him only minutes later.

“Now,” Draco says, his eyes travelling up the length and breadth of Neville. “Where to begin?”

“I think I have a few ideas,” Neville says. And he does.


End file.
